The Battle of Hellgate
by N. Kage
Summary: This is story of what happened to the Warhawks Second and Fourth Companies during the suppression of the revolt on Greta Minor.
1. Landings and Musings

Once again, I claim no ownership to any GM material here. Just as an aside, I have been restless of late, only working on the second chapter of Forklovia when I decided, hey; why not write about the Battle of Hellgate! So, this is the first chap.

Resting his head against the side of the shaking Thunderhawk gunship, Sergeant Mepesto, of the Warhawks 2nd Company, focused his thoughts and carefully reviewed his objectives, planning the route he and his squad would take from the maps he had committed to memory two days before.

The world of Greta Minor was a standard Imperial world with a population of about one-hundred million people, with weak PDF forces and few defenses, for the world was far removed from the obvious war-zones of the Ultima Segmentum and the Cadian Gate. It was weak and unprepared for the hell-storm of revolt that engulfed it. A massive underground cult had permeated every strata of the world and the Adeptus Arbites, the infamous Judges that kept order on every Imperial World, were massacred from within their stony, sheer walled Precinct-Houses. The few loyal PDF regiments found themselves being attacked from all sides, by their fellow PDF troopers, by their officers, by the very populace, armed with guns and munitions taken from the Governors secret arsenal and the Arbites. With a week, cultists had total control of the planet, except for a single Interrogator. Jonas Hemoces was his name, and before he was torn apart by braying mobs of blood-mad cultists, he managed to transmit a single distress call.

The mighty Warhawks Battle Barge _Swooping Flame_ was on a recruiting trip for the Second and Fourth Companies, when the distress beacon was intercepted. With two standard weeks, the _Swooping Flame_ was in high orbit around the world and would have destroyed the planet with cyclonic torpedoes until the Second Company Captain, Gregor Mankiller, found a document, dating back several thousand years, about some relics contained on the world. These relics included a set of archaic power-armor, which once belonged to the Warhawks. Thus, the world had to be retaken, in the Emperors name.

Mepesto's first objective was to secure a nearby PDF barracks, located on a strategic hill and provide a base of fire for a fast-moving wedge of armor that would punch towards the capital of New Hope. An ironic name, the grizzled Sergeant thought, the Space Marines is this world's new hope. After the cultist lines had been breached by the armor, Mepesto's squad would rejoin the main advance and push into the capital, where the set of armor was believed to be. He had personally been tasked with securing the power-armor by Captain Gregor himself. He smiled proudly to himself; he had fought at the Captains side for two decades and bore his scars with pride. However, he had no idea what the fourth company was up to.

A close shell-burst snapped Mepesto out of his revere. He leaned his head forward again and looked around the armored bay of the Thunderhawk and the three squads of Warhawks strapped in there. Closest to him was his squad. Lucis, with a gigantic plasma-cannon, was next to him, Salk, with his melta-gun, sat across from the Sergeant. In the middle of the hold, sat Jengo's devastator squad, behind them sat Sergeant Korpes tactical squad.

"Fifteen seconds!" came a voice in Mepesto's vox-link, and into the vox of every Marine in the hold. It was the serf-pilot, his voice sounding strained even over the static hiss of the vox.

Mepesto switched to external vocalization with a thought, his deep and commanding voice cutting through the ever present shell-fire, "Brothers, today we take the fight to the foul minions of the dark gods! They deserve nothing but hatred and death! So let's give it to them!" The little jest had these battle-hardened Space Marines smiling inside their helmets, a few laughing.

"Five seconds!" again came the serf-pilot. The Thunderhawk was shaking violently now, and small-arms fire rattled against the armored sides, with larger rounds occasionally punching through, leaving shafts of bright light penetrating the red-hazard lighted gloom of the interior.

With a bone-jarring crash, the Thunderhawk touched down on its landing talons and with a pneumatic pop and hiss, the back hatch of the gunship flew open to land with a clang.


	2. Objective reached

Chapter 2

Mepesto slammed his armored form into the double doors and rolled as they crashed in, his bolt-pistol raised and scanning for targets. Not a soul stirred in that first hallway.

"Get to the roof and put some fire out!" Mepesto shouted, waving his squad through the entrance with his shimmering power-sword. The Sergeant kicked in another door at random, this one revealing what looked like officer's quarters. A massive, solid wood desk dominated the center of the room. The desk was bare, abet a strange, twisted knife, which was covered in eye-aching symbols, which seemed to writhe and twist as he looked upon it. Mepesto pulled a krak grenade from his belt and set it on the knife and set the timer before stepping out and hurrying to join his squad on the roof, from whence he could hear the shriek of plasma-bolts and the distinctive crack-shriek of bolters.

On the roof, his squad had split into three groups, each covering a suspected route of retreat the traitor filth could take. All three groups were firing on full auto. Gunner Lucis's armor was blackened from his overheating plasma-cannon.

"Mepesto, have you taken the barracks?" a voice squawked in his internal vox-link. The Sergeant guessed it was Captain Mankiller.

"Captain, we have secured the objective and are cutting down the traitor bastards in droves. Has the armor landed yet?"

The vox-like was quiet for a minute, and then the Captain responded, "Yes, the armor just touched down. Fourth Company has landed north, above New Hope, but have run into extremely fierce resistance around some temple-complex. I'm sending a portion of the armor to help them out, so relief will take a little longer to come to you. Do you require anything?"

"Just more ammunition, Captain! Praise the Emperor."

"Praise the Emperor, Sergeant."

Mepesto circled his squad, shouting encouragement over the many sounds of battle. The ground around the barracks was coated in blood, and mounds of corpses lay everywhere. A foul wail came from behind the Sergeant and the Space Marine spun on his heel, his bolt pistol at the ready. A man, if he could still be called that, was climbing up the stairs to the roof. His skin was carved with numerous and foul symbols, and they seemed to move of their own accord. Mepesto did not hesitate to fire, the heavy pistol roaring in his hand. The bolts passed through the man, who shimmered and shifted, seeming in this world at one moment, and another the next. The sorcerer raised his hands and foul blue lightening shot from his fingertips, smashing Mepesto in the chest and sending him crashing to the roof, two smoking cracks in his armor.

Flipping on to his feet, Mepesto drew his sword, seething in anger and charged the sorcerer/man-thing, slashing the sword in a left to right. If the blow had connected, the sorcerer/man-thing would have been cut from shoulder to hip.

Except the blow didn't land. The glowing power-blade passed straight through the sorcerer/man-thing with an unnatural whoosh. Mepesto snarled in rage and reversed the stroke, stabbing straight through the sorcerer/man-thing's chest. At first the blade did not damage, but the sorcerer/man-thing materialized with the blade still where his chest was. The sorcerer went into convulsions, his flesh sizzling from the power-field around the sword. Mepesto placed a booted foot on the sorcerer's chest and pulled the sword out with a flourish and kicked the lifeless corpse down the stairs.

Gunner Lucis had been watching the whole thing. The big Marine saluted Mepesto, who returned the gestured with his smoking sword.

"Sergeant, the traitor scum have finished withdrawing past us! We should chase them down and offer them no time for respite!"

Mepesto laughed as he holstered his bolt pistol, "Lucis, I like your attitude. Except we have to hold this location until relieved. Pick off as many as you can!" Now it was Lucis's turn to laugh.

"Acknowledged Sergeant."

For several minutes, the Marines armed with bolters in Mepesto's squad picked off the fleeing stragglers, until they had finally fled out of range. Several, including Mepesto, reloaded their weapons and waited for their Rhino APC to arrive to pick them up, but it came. Mepesto tried radioing the driver, but all that meet him was a wave of static.

Mepesto looked to the north, wondering if he could see a column of dust and smoke that would show the location of the armor. He did indeed see one, far north, at least fifty kilometers. The sky, he also noticed, had turned a bruised black, and unnatural clouds were approaching from all directions.

"Squad! We're walking! Fall out!"

Just as the squad hustled out the barracks, a screech erupted from Mepesto's vox.

The first seconds of the communication were solid static. Finally, Captain Mankillers harsh voice cut in. The background noise was screaming and gunfire.

"I repeat, Mepesto!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"The fourth company has been all but wiped out! The temple complex they had taken proved to be a gigantic trap! It was a warp-gate! Thousands of daemon-scum are attacking us now! Hold you position and wait for us!"

"Captain, is extraction possible?"

"Not as of this time! The storm the gate has brought down is stopping all flight. We are on our own at this time."

"What of the fourth company survivors?" Mepesto asked again.

"We have three Rhinos and a Razorback full of them. But that is all. We should reach your position in two hours, depending on how close the daemons are. Hold your position!"

"Yes Sir." Mepesto stated with grim determination and hate in his voice. The fourth company once had one-hundred and thirty Marines. Now it had about forty Marines.


	3. Holding back the Tide

Chapter 3

Mepesto and his Marines stood, shoulder to shoulder in one of the trenches to the front of the PDF barracks, scanning the horizon. The unnatural storm had brought darkness in less than thirty minutes, and the Sergeant had long since lost sight of the First Company. Then, he could see muzzle flashes and search lights far in the distance. Captain Mankiller had twenty minutes until his two hours were up. The wind had also picked up, carrying with it the sounds of screaming and terrible howling. He could sense his squad was nervous. Mepesto was too, but he could not show it. So, he began to chant the Litany of Hate.

"While the traitor still draws breath, we will know only hate!" shouted the Sergeant, his voice carrying across the broken ground in front of the PDF barracks. The searchlights were closer now, maybe only fifteen kilometers away.

"While the alien stills lives, we will know no comfort!" Half the squad joined in now. Mepesto had switched to the all squads frequency to inspire the souls of all the Warhawks within range. The lights were still getting closer but Mepesto could not make out individual vehicles or the like. Captain Mankiller now had ten minutes until he was late.

"While the mutant still walks, we will know no respite!" The entire squad had joined in now, most carefully aiming weapons towards the closing cloud. Behind the tanks, a thick, black wall of fog came closer. Unnatural lightning flashed across the fog and sinister howling was carried to them on the wind.

"While the heretic still breathes, we will know no fear!" The range estimation was now less than two kilometers. Mepesto could easily make out individual vehicles. He could see Captain Mankillers personal Land Raider Crusader, driving backwards, firing all weapons into the unnatural black fog. The Sergeant increased the magnification of his helmet and realized the daemons were trying to use the fog as cover! One of the Rhinos, one of the few still with Fourth Company markings, fell behind, having thrown a track in the broken ground. The passengers poured out, bolters blazing, taking down a dozen or more daemons before they were overwhelmed, swamped by the sheer amount of daemons.

"While the daemon still sins, we will know only death!" The armor of the Second Company slewed to a halt behind the trenches, throwing up a cloud of dust and smoke in front of the horde of daemon-spawn. Mepesto could not believe the sheer number and diversity of the daemons. He had fought daemons before, but never in these kind of numbers.

Mepesto glanced over as Captain Mankiller jumped into the trench next to him, his plasma-pistol shrieking at as a tentacled monstrosity dragged away two Marines, acid eating away their armor. The Sergeant added his fire to the Captains and the monstrosity seemed to implode. The Marines were very dead, great holes in their torsos and heads.

"Just another day, eh, Sergeant!" Captain Mankiller shouted. Mankiller had lost his head somewhere, and had a gash across his forehead, blood running between his service studs. The Captain dodged back as a blood –drenched, heavily-armored daemon slashed a massive axe at him. Mankiller smashed the daemon aside with his crackling power-fist.

"You brought quite a lot of them, Captain!" Mepesto returned, empting his pistol into another of the armored daemons. Before he could reload, another jumped at him, swinging the axe down. Before the blow could fall, Lucis blew the daemon out of the air with his plasma-cannon. The Gunner was blackened and coated with gore, but his cannon never stopped firing. Until a black and blue daemon with far too many breasts used a pincer-claw to snip off his head in a delicate way. Mepesto avenged the brave Gunner by cutting the daemon in half with his power-sword.

"Kill them all Sergeant!" Mankiller returned, whilst quickly replacing the fuel-cells on his pistol under the covering fire of a heavy flamer. Mepesto quickly looked around the trench and drew strength from what he saw. The line of Second and Fourth Company was holding, if temporary, against the flood of daemons. A daemon, strange and bloated, flailed rotting appendages at Mepesto, threatening to throw him off his feet. Reacting instantly, the Sergeant cut the thing in half with his power-sword. Glancing back down the line, he saw the white armored forms of Apothecaries running along the trench line, unwilling to let the precious gene-seed fall to the daemons. All the while, he could hear the roar of bolters, the shriek of tank-mounted lascannons, assault cannons and multi-meltas.

"I don't think we can, Captain." Mepesto swatted aside another daemon, his sword slicing through it effortlessly. The power-field sputtered and died a second later and the Sergeant quickly changed the power-cell. However, even with Mepesto's negativity, over the last minutes, the host of daemon-scum had slackened their assault, but Captain Mankiller still seemed wary. He had ordered a pair of battered devastator squads to the roof of the PDF barracks to act as sentries and kept trying to contact the Phoenix Rising. Long-range communications were still down, which was hardly surprising. The storm the daemons had brought with them was getting worse. The wind had risen and great black thunderheads filled the sky. Unnatural blue lightning was flashing in the distance, seeming to strike down in the same general area as New Hope and the cathedral where this whole thing had began.

The Fourth Company squads seemed demoralized, even from a distance. They seemed to be thinking of the Marines that had been lost. Their Captain, Reforas, had been killed by a larger daemon and when the warp-gate opened, their Librarians head exploded. Chaplain Tausel, of the 2nd Company began to forge them back into a fighting force. A band of daemons, in blood-red armor, charged the section of the line the Fourth Company was defending. Tausel was at the fore, a steadfast beacon of courage, his Crozius Arcanum crackling as daemon-blood boiled and melted off it.

"Be way Marines,' began Tausel, as he strode down the trench, which was knee deep in blood and ichor, dotted with the bodies of Battle-Brothers, 'This lull is foul plot to weaken our line and leave us unprepared! But they will no find a Warhawks Marine unprepared! Against all odds, we have stood firm and we shall do so again and again until the fearless Thunderhawk crews fight their way through this foul and unnatural storm that had engulfed this miserable world. Not that we need rescuing, though!"

Mepesto smiled with the Chaplains words and looked over to see Captain Mankiller chuckle for a moment before turning serious again, clenching and unclenching his glowing power-fist. The Chaplains words had struck home with every Marine, lifting their spirits and hardening their resolve. They would not fail this day.

"We have taken many causalties, especially the brave and noble Fourth Company!' Tausel continued, closing with Mepesto location, 'one-hundred and fifteen brave Marines have died this day! Do not let their deaths be in vain! For each one of them, slay one-hundred of the daemon-scum!' The Chaplain had probably killed one-hundred of the daemons by himself. He was covered from head to foot in blood and gore, some of it his. When Tausel passed in front of Mepesto, the Sergeant noticed a massive rend in the Chaplains side, a blow that had obviously cut deep into Tausel's chest and stomach. 'Let us be filled with righteous hate against those foul scum!"

"Here they come again!" A Sergeant from one of the devastator squads shouted, pointing the north.


End file.
